Some days there are just no words for this journey.
Sometimes I can only feel what I feel
and do what I do
and cry when I cry.
Read the rest here: No Words
Why is the Second Year SO Hard?
I remember very well the morning I woke on April 12, 2015-it was one year since I’d gotten the awful news; one year since the life I thought I was going to have turned into the life I didn’t choose.
I was horrified that my heart had continued to beat for 365 days when I was sure it wouldn’t make it through the first 24 hours.
And I was terrified.
During that first year there were multiple punctuated stops along the way-the first major and minor holidays scattered throughout the year, a family wedding, two graduations, Dominic’s birthday and on and on. I’d muddle through and then turn my face forward towards the next one looming in the future.
There was so much emotional upheaval, so many things to process that I was unbalanced, focused only on survival without a thought to anything beyond the next hill.
But when I realized that I’d made it through one year, was still standing, was still breathing and was (apparently) going to survive this horrible blow, I began to think about living this way for the rest of my days.
And it was overwhelming.
Facing something for a defined period of time-even an awful something-is doable. There’s an end in sight, relief on the way, endurance will be rewarded-just hang on.
But when a heart can’t lay hold of the finish line-well, that’s enough to undo even the bravest among us.
All the things I muddled through the first year were just going to circle back around over and over and over for decades!
My grief took on a new dimension-it wasn’t something that was going away-it was life long.
I spent the entire second year and most of the third just wrapping my mind and heart around that FACT and trying to develop tools to carry this burden for the long haul.
Every heart is different, every family unique.
The second year is NOT harder for everyone. I’m not even sure it was HARDER for me. But it was definitely different and full of new challenges.
It forced me to dig deeper than the first year when I was mainly in survival mode.
The crying tapered off but the reality of my son’s absence loomed larger. The breathless agony of his death really did grow more manageable but the prospect of this being a life sentence weighed more heavily on my heart.
But God’s grace has been sufficient in every season of my grief. He has sustained me, strengthened me and carried me.
Here I am-six weeks into year [ten]-still standing, still fighting and still holding on to hope.
God is faithful.
What He did for me,
He will do for you.
No Straight Lines in Grief
Grief is unlike anything else I’ve experienced.
There’s no pattern, no clear path, no steps a heart can follow to get from broken to healed.
And that adds to the burden. Because there is so much pressure on bereaved parents to “get better” (whatever that means!).
I wonder sometimes who imagines that if there was a way to be free of this sorrow I wouldn’t jump on it?
All I can do is go where the grief takes me.
No shortcuts.
No detours.
How Do I DO This? The Question Every Bereaved Parent Longs to Ask
After the flurry of activity surrounding the funeral, our house was so, so quiet.
Even with the five of us still here, it felt empty.
Because Dominic was gone, gone, gone and he was not coming back.
And the silence pounded into my head and heart until it became a scream:
How do I DO this?
How do I keep on living when all I want to do is give up and give in? How does a body carry this pain-is it even possible?
When I dared look past the moment to the days, weeks, months, DECADES that stretched before me, I was undone.
Even now, if I look too far ahead, my heart pounds and my head explodes.
So I don’t.
Honestly, THAT’S how you do it.
One day at a time.
One moment at a time.
One breath at a time.
I keep reminding my heart that the only thing I have to do is right now. I hold my attention to this very moment and refuse to let my thoughts wander.
Sure I mark dates on the calendar and am even able to plan ahead a bit now. But it was nearly three years until I could do that without shaking as I wrote them down.
So dear mama, dear daddy, give yourself permission not to try to figure out what a parent’s heart was never meant to calculate-how to live without the earthly companionship of the child you love-and just breathe.
One day at a time.
One moment at a time.
One breath at a time.
Repost: Dispelling Marriage Myths Surrounding Child loss
I wrote this last year for our anniversary. It is still true.
We are battered and torn but hanging in and hanging on to one another.
Don’t believe the myth that a marriage cannot survive child loss. It can and many do.
Today my husband and I celebrate 33 years of marriage.
Our thirtieth anniversary wars a mere two months after we buried our son.
Here’s the last “before” anniversary photo (2013)-unfeigned smiles, genuine joy, excitement to have made it that far…
Read the rest here: Dispelling Marriage Myths Surrounding Child Loss
When I Don’t Know What to Pray: Praying the Names of God
The Bible says that “The Name of the LORD is a strong tower, the righteous run to it and are saved.” (Proverbs 18:10)
Clearly that does NOT mean that every person who calls on the Name of the LORD will be kept physically whole.
Many, many believers have suffered and died while the name of Christ is on their lips.
But I do believe that in a very real, very meaningful way, calling on the Name of the LORD has saved me.
It saved me first from my sin and guarantees that I will meet my son in eternity.
And it continues to save me when I am at the end of my own resources and need to appropriate the strength of my Heavenly Father to hold onto hope.
Over twenty-five years ago I was introduced to a wonderful book by Sylvia Gunter called PRAYER PORTIONS. My copy is battered, dog-eared, torn and treasured.
It is full, full, full of wonderful teaching about prayer and, more importantly, of biblical prayers to actually PRAY.
While my prayer life post child loss is not at all what it used to be, I still rely on her list of the names and attributes of God to help my heart make it through tough days.
Here is one Alphabet of the Names and Attributes of God
Abba Father – Gal. 4:6
Balm of Gilead – Jer. 8:22
Comforter – 2 Cor. 1:3
Deliverer – Ps. 18:2
Everlasting God – Isa. 40:28
Father of Mercy – 2 Cor. 1:3
Good Shepherd – John 10:11-15
Holy One – Pro. 9:10
Intercessor – Heb. 7:25
Judge of the living and thedead – 1 Peter 4:5
King Eternal – 1 Tim. 1:17
Light of revelation – Luke 2:32
Man of sorrows – Isa. 53:5
Never-failing One – Heb. 13:5
Offering for sin – Heb 10:14
Potter – Isa. 64:8
Quieting Love – Zeph. 3:17
Righteous – 1 Cor. 1:30-31
Santification – 1 Cor. 1:30-31
Teacher – John 14:26
Upholder of all things – Isa. 41:13
Very present help – Ps. 46:1
The Way – John 14:6
Exalted – Psa. 148:13
Your glory and lifter of your head – Ps. 3:3
Zealous – John 2:17
From PRAYER PORTIONS by Sylvia Gunter
I pray that it helps your heart as much and as often as it helps mine.
You are a Treasure
Grief has challenged every single thing I believed about God and about myself.
It made me doubt whether He is a loving Father, whether He keeps His promises, whether He even cares one whit about all us humans running around on planet Earth.
And it made me wonder what in the world is wrong with me that MY child was killed? What had I done to deserve this?
Grief tells lies.
And one of the biggest lies grief whispers is, “You are worthless.”
That is simply not true.
Even if you weren’t treasured by your earthly parents, the God of the universe treasures you, and His thoughts about you are always good. He chose you when He planned creation (Ephesians 1:11-12), and you are not a mistake (Psalm 71:6), and His thoughts toward you are countless – like the grains of sand on the shore (Psalm 139:17-18). You are really, truly, deeply loved by God.
~Esther Fleece, No More Faking Fine
I don’t know your story but I can promise you this: God isn’t finished with you yet.
I believe that each one of us is celebrated as a unique creation of our Father.
That goes for our children, but also for us.
I have no idea why God’s plan includes me outliving my child but He has a purpose that is yet unfulfilled for my life.
What happens TO us doesn’t determine our worth-not even the awful and heart shattering experience of child loss.
You are loved by a Heavenly Father Who has a plan for your life.
He can bring beauty from ashes, even the ashes of child loss.
You are not alone-you have a community of bereaved parents who will listen, love and lift you.
Lean in and hold onto hope. Don’t let go.
I’m praying for you.
Repost: Not Ashamed to Wait
“Those who wait for Me with hope will not be put to shame.”
Isaiah 49:23c NLV
We love stories of overcomers. We invite testimonies that end in victory.
We applaud members of the Body who have a “before” and “after” tale of how Jesus plus willpower took them from the dust of defeat to the pinnacle of spiritual success.
But we hide the strugglers and stragglers in the back pews.
Read the rest here: Not Ashamed to Wait
Death is The Enemy, Jesus Our Victory
We live in a culture where we see death often but experience it rarely.
Movies, video games, cartoons, news stories all flash images of death across the screen so frequently that most of us either ignore them or they register only as numbers, not as human beings.
Of course many of the images are manufactured-the actors don’t REALLY die, the characters in video games are not real-but how often do we wait for a news report to tell us how many AMERICANS died in a plane crash or terror attack?
As if only those affiliated in some way with our own heritage “count”.
But when death comes knocking at your own door, walks in and settles down, that changes everything.
I can no longer sit and consume death like a meal, meant to feed my appetite for entertainment.
And every single time I hear a report listing casualties I think of the families ripped apart by the absence of a life they loved.
Death is the enemy.
When Satan tempted Adam and Eve he said, “You shall not surely die.”
He was wrong.
A single sin ushered in all kinds of sorrow and woe and the ultimate sadness was death. It meant separation from breath and life, separation from those we love and, without the atoning blood of Christ, separation from God in eternity.
My ninety-nine-year-old aunt died this week. She lived a long, useful and fairly healthy life (until the last couple of years).
You’d think that in light of my own son dying at only twenty-three I’d be more OK with her leaving this life and moving to Heaven.
But I’m not.
Somehow her death-more than all the other souls I’ve known and loved that have left us since Dom ran ahead-has knocked me to my knees.
Maybe it was how hard and how long she fought against our common enemy.
Maybe it was just the time of year.
I don’t know.
But she reminded me again that death is always sad.
And that Jesus is the only One Who can save us from death’s power.
It’s The Little Things
I am oh, so grateful for every single thing someone does to encourage my heart.
And I try hard to pass it on.
Because, really, when you think about it, it’s the little things that either wear us down or build us up.
The daily drip of encouragement or criticism is what shapes our hearts most.
The hardest stone can be worn away by water over time. And the softest earth can be packed firm and resist any new seed when trod upon and squeezed dry by drought.
Words are not neutral. They either build up or tear down.
And so many hearts are holding onto hope by the thinnest thread.
I want to be the person that helps build it into a lifeline, not the one who snaps it in two.
thelifeididntchoose 